What She'd Do for Love. Cindi Myers
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had first attracted her. “But not every change is bad.”
“This one isn’t good.” She tried to keep her attention on the pie, but was aware of him still watching her.
“You’ve had too much change in your life lately, haven’t you?” he said after a moment.
“What do you mean?” Her heart was racing again. She hated that he unsettled her so.
“It can’t be easy, losing your job and moving back home. That’s a lot to adjust to.”
And she wasn’t adjusting well—was it so obvious, even to a stranger? Was he so perceptive, or just making a lucky guess? “I’m looking at this as a much-needed break. A vacation.”
“And this highway project is just one more thing to deal with. One more upheaval.”
“Yes. I guess you could say that.”
“Just remember, this isn’t really that important. Not like your future.”
His words confused her. “You don’t think this highway is important? Then why are you so unwilling to consider altering the plans?”
“The highway is important to me. And it will be important to a lot of other people, some who don’t even live here yet. But it’s a road, not a person. Even cold, logical engineers know the difference.”
Her cheeks grew hot as she remembered what she’d said to Kelly. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” she said. “I was frustrated.”
“I’ve been called worse.” He sipped his coffee, still watching her over the rim of his cup. “Have you talked to your parents about the highway project?” he asked.
Why was he asking about her parents? “Not really. We’ve had other things on our minds.”
“Of course. But ask your dad what he thinks. You might be surprised.”
“He said he knew you. He even said you had a good head on your shoulders.”
“I’m flattered. I like him too.”
“He talks as if you two are friends.”
“I like to think we are. Bud was one of the first people I met with when I came to Cedar Grove. One of the best.”
“He hasn’t said much, but he doesn’t seem very upset about the new highway.”
“Talk to him. You might learn some things that surprise you.”
“Neither one of my parents have talked to me all that much since I got here,” she said. “Not about anything important. They seem, I don’t know, distracted.”
“But they’re happy to have you home, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know about that either.” Despite their attempts at enthusiasm this afternoon, dinner had been quiet, conversation strained. Neither parent had asked more about Christa’s job, though she would have thought they would have wanted to know the details of her layoff. “Sometimes I think they’d be happier if I wasn’t here. Mom seemed anxious to get me out of the house this afternoon, and she keeps urging me to get involved with clubs and things in town. She has a whole calendar of activities planned for me, as if she doesn’t want me around the house any more than necessary.” Telling Ryder these things was like letting air out of an over-inflated balloon. Tension eased from her shoulders and she felt better than she had in days.
“It’s a big adjustment for all of you,” he said. “It’s something I’ve never had to deal with.”
“Where do your parents live?” she asked, ready to change the subject.
“My dad is in Wyoming. We lived there when I was small, but I don’t remember much about it. My mom is in Dallas. She teaches at a private school.”
“They’re divorced?”
“It only happened last year. I’m still trying to get used to the idea.”
Maybe he knew more than she’d given him credit for about unsettling changes. “Were you surprised they split up?”
“Very. I thought they had a good marriage.”
“I think divorce is hard on everyone involved, but sometimes people are happier after the split.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to massage away a cramp. “I have mixed feelings about it. Part of me wishes they’d found a way to work things out and stay together. But Mom says she was unhappy for years. She wanted to stay in one place—make friends, have a job, join clubs. I thought she could have done all those things and stayed married to my dad, but she says no.”
“What does your dad say?”
“Not much. He’s always been pretty stoic.”
“Your mom must like having you close to her.”
“She does. And she does seem very happy with her new life. So maybe you’re right, and this is for the best.” He waited while the server refilled their coffee. “She’s coming for lunch on Saturday. She says she wants to see where I live. I’m afraid she’s going to be disappointed.”
Christa stiffened. “Does she have something against small towns?”
“No. She’ll love Cedar Grove, I’m sure. But my apartment is just a furnished rental, nothing fancy. I know she’ll expect better, but it doesn’t make sense for me to spend money on a house when I’m not going to be here that long.”
Such logical practicality seemed so cold to her. How could he feel at home when even his furniture wasn’t his own? “Where do you think of as home?” she asked.
“I don’t really think about it.” He pressed the back of his fork into a few stray crumbs on his plate. “I’ve learned to be content wherever I am.”
“Do you think you’ll ever want to settle down? I mean, if you have a family...” She let the words trail away. Maybe she was getting too personal.
“Maybe then I would want to find one place and grow roots,” he said. “Moving so often was tough when I was a little kid. I was always the new guy, always trying to catch up. On the other hand, it taught me to relate to a lot of different kinds of people. I grew used to the moves, even learned to like them.”
He sounded so matter of fact and upbeat. But she remembered his comment about not wanting to go back to an empty apartment. Having no deep connections to other people implied a loneliness she couldn’t begin to imagine.
She didn’t want to feel sorry for Ryder. She didn’t want to empathize with a man who was turning her world—her connections—upside down. But she was drawn to him in spite of wanting to hold back. “We should talk again, after I’ve had a chat with my father,” she said. “Though I don’t think he’s going to change my mind about this project. Or keep me from fighting it.”
“I’m happy to talk with you anytime.” His eyes met hers, and she read a kaleidoscope of emotions in their depths—sadness, determination, sympathy, and maybe even affection. She had to look away, afraid of what he might read in her own eyes. “Just remember, Christa. I’m not out to hurt you or your family or anyone in this town. I really do want to help.”
The words sent a shiver of apprehension up her spine. Wasn’t there a saying about people who were guilty protesting too much? Ryder was hiding something from her, she was sure. But she couldn’t imagine what that might be.
* * *
THOUGH RYDER LINGERED over coffee with Christa as long as possible, by 8:30 the crowd at the café had thinned and Etta Mae was starting to wipe down tables and stack chairs. “I guess we’d better go,” Christa said, pushing out of the booth.
“I guess so.” Admittedly he was reluctant to end the evening. Though he’d learned over the years to talk to almost anyone about anything,